She motioned for Tony to follow and headed for the elevator. “Arlene, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Dinner tomorrow night work?”
Arlene waved and tottered off after Sam toward the employee apartments where she was staying. She’d come to make sure her grandson didn’t throw away a chance at a good life, and she’d never left. She, Laura, and Holly had a nice family going while KT traveled back and forth between Memphis and Los Angeles where he was selling a house and promoting the show that had brought him to the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel in the first place.
Willodean drew his attention as she waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Tony. What’s got you distracted?”
The elevator opened and he followed her to the penthouse. She swiped her keycard and held the door open for Tony and Misty before closing it quietly behind him. He’d often wondered why she decided to stay in the hotel. Her penthouse was nice with its view of the pool and the green space behind the hotel, but it was small, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an open-plan living room, dining room, and kitchen combined. It was a nice place, but someone with more money than she knew what to do with should be living like… well, maybe like Elvis.
Willodean took the handle of her rolling bag and deposited it in one of the bedrooms before she walked back in and collapsed on the cushy gold sofa. Misty climbed up next to her, circled three times, and collapsed with a heavy sigh, her droopy ears dangling off the edge.
Willodean ran her hand down Misty’s back and pointed at an equally cushy chair. “Sit. Talk to me. What have I missed?”
Tony perched on the edge of the chair and folded his hands together. “We are fully booked and haven’t had any real concerns. I’ve had some maintenance issues but they’re taken care of. We’ve also been short in housekeeping but I think I’ve made some good hires. Consuela’s got some people to work with now. She’ll let me know if we need to make changes.”
Willodean smiled. “And?”
Tony shrugged. “And I haven’t heard much from the architect or the contractor since you left, but I’ve got a note to schedule a meeting next week.”
Willodean nodded. “And?”
Tony had already decided not to hit her with his news as soon as she walked in the door. Randa had kept for a few days, so she could probably wait one more. Unless Willodean had spies, something he was very sure she did have but couldn’t quite imagine how they’d know anything about Randa, she couldn’t be asking about what he thought she was asking about.
Tony leaned back with a gusty sigh and laced his hands over his stomach. “Help me. And what?”
Willodean pursed her lips. “Well, now, I’m not exactly sure, but there’s something. It’s just there, on the tip of your tongue, so go ahead and spill it.”
Tony shook his head. She did this to him all the time. It was like he was a little boy all over again, only this time he had someone who cared about what bothered him. Crazy.
Willodean laughed and looked down at Misty. “Girl, if I didn’t know better, I’d say our Tony has girl trouble.” Her eyes were sparkling when she glanced at him. “Am I right?”
Tony controlled his eyes. He had no idea how she’d guessed that. She’d been here less than half an hour and already she’d stuck her finger right on the sore spot. His face was as solid as ever but she laughed like she’d hit the jackpot.
“There is no girl.” Tony gave it his best shot. He really did. He didn’t give anything away.
Willodean quirked one corner of her mouth up and raised both eyebrows again.
Finally he shook his head. “All right. But I was going to wait, give you time to get settled before I let you know about this.” He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “We’ve got a guest. Randa Whitmore. She showed up this week with no reservation. Rolled up in a limo. I was suspicious so I did a check and she’s…”
“One of them Whitmores, hm? The hotel ones?” Willodean frowned and fiddled with Misty’s ears. Misty let out a happy sigh.
“Yes, I was suspicious because she says she’s here for Elvis Week, but I don’t think she knows a thing about Elvis.”
Willodean shook her head slowly. “And that’s just a crying shame. Guess it’s better late than never though. Good thing she got here when she did.”
Tony wanted to explain to her that pity wasn’t the right answer. Suspicion maybe. Or anger, although Willodean didn’t seem to do anger. Worry or irritation might even work. Pity was the wrong answer.
“What’s your best guess on why she’s here?”
Tony said, “I think they may be getting ready to build here in Memphis, want to know more about the competition.”
Willodean stared at a small gold statue of Elvis for a minute before she shook her head. “Don’t think we’re the competition, Tony. They build those tall, boxy monstrosities with zero personality.” She smiled slyly. “My Rock’n’Rolla’s got plenty of personality.”
He chuckled. She was right. And she was damn cute as she said it too.
“Pretty girl?”
Tony glanced away and squinted at the light pouring in through the window. Finally he exhaled loud and long. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
Willodean clasped her hands together. “Oh, thank you, Lord, for answering the prayers of a sinner like me.” Tony started to stand, ready to escape now that he’d done his duty and reported on their visitor, but Willodean held out a hand. “What are you going to do about her?”
“Me?” He shook his head. “I’ve done everything I’m going to do. Against my better judgment, I watched her until you got here. Now, the next time I see her, I’m going to tell her what I know and then I’m going to kiss her until neither one of us remembers her last name.” He stood and propped his hands on his hips. “Unless you tell me not to. If you tell me to kick her out right now, I will. If you tell me to stay away from her, I will. If you tell me to drag her all the way back to Chicago, I will.”
Willodean nodded. “If you’ve got your concerns, how come you didn’t do any of those things already? I mean, besides the kissing. You’ve clearly already got a good handle on all of that.”
Tony tilted his head. “I was ready to show her the door, but Laura convinced me to wait. And now that I know her a little… Willodean, I know you like lost causes. Hell, I’m probably the poster child for what you can do with broken lives, but I don’t have your talent. I can’t see it the way you do.”
“But you thought she might need a little of my special brand of help? Ain’t she got money and a family that ought to give that to her?”
Tony said, “Yes, but there’s something about her. I just think you ought to meet her, see for yourself. You’ll be a better judge than I am.”
Willodean sighed. “Well, now, Tony, I don’t know that I ever expected there would be something I’m better at than you.” She smiled. “But we do both know that I am better than you here. And I’d love to meet Miss Randa Whitmore. Which room is she in?”
Tony shrugged a shoulder. “She’s staying in the apartment next to mine.” He rubbed his forehead. “Laura’s bright idea again, not mine.”
Willodean’s laugh was husky. “That girl’s got potential, I tell you.”
Tony laughed. She was right. Laura might not be the magician Willodean was but she was learning from the master.
Willodean pointed at him. “Anything I want you to do, right?”
Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Anything. Any time.”
Willodean softened and then shook her finger at him. “Track her down. Tell her she’s having dinner with me at Viva Las Vegas in one hour. Or else.”
Tony smiled at her threat. “Or else what, Willodean?”
“Or else she’s out on the street tonight.”
Neither one of them believed that was the truth but that was the story he’d try to sell. Tony nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.”
Willodean held her hand up and Tony pulled her off the couch. Misty stretched out across the cushions with a grumbling
sigh.
They walked to the door. “Thank you for taking care of my hotel and my girl while I was off gallivanting.”
Tony opened the door. “You know doing both makes me very happy, Willodean. But I’m very glad you’re back too.”
“I’m going to return the favor. I’m going to take care of your girl, Tony.” She pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Better get ready for all the kissing.”
She closed the door quietly and Tony stopped in the hallway as he wondered what he’d unleashed. After a few seconds, he straightened. He stalked toward the elevator and wondered if he shouldn’t have taken care of the problem himself when he had the chance.
When the elevator dinged, he tried to ignore the voice that said he’d be sorry to have missed all the kissing if he’d tossed her out the first day.
Tony glanced at the clock over the front desk. He still had about four hours before he was back on duty with Leon. Plenty of time to nap, grab something to eat, and not think about Randa Whitmore. Right after he tracked her down and told her about her dinner date. He rolled his head on his shoulders and then squared them up. Now was no time for wimping out. He had a job. He’d just do it.
He started across the lobby, ready to march right to her door. He was absolutely not going to kiss her again. Not until she told them all why she was here. He wanted to know the real Randa, good and bad and in between. Then he was going to kiss her. All over.
Just before he turned the corner to the hallway leading to the pool area, he heard the commotion of the Graceland shuttle at the front door. The airport shuttle was always quieter for some reason. The Graceland shuttle almost always sounded like a group of third graders unloading at a fast food joint. Lots of shrill laughter and screeching. It was like the visit to Elvis’s home turned every grown up back into a kid again.
And during Elvis Week, they weren’t starting out all that mature in the first place.
He paused and watched a small cluster of Japanese tourists come in. They were not giggling or loud talking but their smiles were high wattage. Next came a larger group of retired couples. The men were all wearing khaki shorts with their Elvis souvenir shirts. The women had pale pink visors and were talking over each other worse than a family reunion. And then, probably like Israelites watched the Red Sea part, he saw the gabbling sea of Elvis fans part before Randa Whitmore. There was no other word for it. She was leading an entourage. These fans were the bedazzled and it looked like she’d found her place.
She wore expensive dark sunglasses, her best plastic flip-flops in basic black, her tiny skirt, and a silver sequined tank top. This time, some imaginary breeze did blow her blonde hair out behind her in a fan, and he actually bit his lip. Behind her flowed a group of women who had enough glitter and spangle to send dancing lights all around the lobby.
When she saw him, she flowed to a stop and then turned to hug the necks of the women behind her. “Girls, I’ve had a wonderful day.”
One of the ladies, the spokes-model in bright red lipstick and silver fanny pack, said, “Now, you’re sure you can be there tomorrow? We’ll schedule you early in the meeting so you can talk before we cover our Elvis Belles fan club business.”
Randa took her glasses off and shoved them in her hair. Tony was happy to see her eyes, but he thought she looked a little tired. Like maybe she hadn’t been able to sleep either. He shouldn’t take any joy in that. Insomnia was a bitch and he ought to know. But he did feel a little stroke to his ego at the idea that she’d been too busy thinking of him to get any rest.
She held out both hands and said, “Of course I’ll be there. You ladies have been so much fun today. I’m glad I joined your Graceland tour. I wouldn’t miss my only chance to speak to the largest Elvis fan club in southwest Alabama, would I?”
Tony propped his hands on his hips and closed his eyes to contain his laughter.
She was planning on speaking at an Elvis fan club. About what? Spa treatments?
After a lot of chittering and another round of hugs, the entourage ladies swept off in a wave headed for the elevator. And Randa approached him slowly. Tony could feel the muscle in his jaw pop as he ground his teeth. He was going to laugh. There was very little hope for it, but it would set the wrong tone completely.
At first she looked a little unsure, but she raised an eyebrow and did her best frost queen impression. That helped.
“Did you have something to say to me, Tony?” She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her arms like she was cold in the air conditioning. She should be. She had enough exposed skin to cool efficiently.
“Wanted to let you know Willodean Jackson’s back.” When she didn’t react, he added, “The owner. And she wants to have dinner with you. In about an hour. At Viva Las Vegas.”
Randa started to answer but he held up a hand.
“Wait. I just gotta ask… have you been over at Graceland today?”
Randa nodded.
Tony did too.
“And did I just hear you say something about speaking in front of a fan club?”
Randa rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what business it is of yours, but yes. Tomorrow I’m speaking at the Elvis Belles meeting. About what Elvis means to me.” She didn’t meet his eyes as she finished. Tony hoped that meant she understood how crazy it sounded.
He rubbed his forehead. “Well, of course. What else would you talk about? I mean, it’s not like you can talk about anything anybody else knows because you don’t know anything about Elvis. Right?”
Randa tossed her hair over her shoulder and said, “I don’t believe I’m available for dinner tonight. Please pass along my apology, will you?”
She moved to sail away like the grande dame she was channeling, but he stopped her with one hand on her arm. And she was chilled. He rand his thumb over her soft skin for a few seconds. Until she looked down at his hand on her arm and then up at his face. He could see heat in her eyes. And a big ol’ question mark.
He forced his hand away but slid it all the way down her arm before he stepped back. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse when he said, “Then you should pack up your stuff and go. I have my orders. You show up for dinner or you go. Now. And I’ll make you.”
Randa stepped back and let out a huff. “You’re kidding, right? Why?”
Tony shook his head, although he had serious doubts he’d be able to kick her out. Or make her do anything she really didn’t want to do. Maybe he shouldn’t get tangled up with her. He’d never pictured himself as the kind of man who carried his wife’s purse.
The word “wife” was a hard shot to the abdomen. She was the last girl he needed to be measuring for wedding rings. He blessed his years of perfecting a poker face. Without it, he’d be gasping for breath, his eyes bugging out like he’d been electrocuted.
“You know why, Miss Whitmore. You aren’t here for fun rooms and the proximity to Graceland. You know it. I know it. And now Willodean knows it. She’d like to meet you, and we’d both really like to know why a hotel heiress has checked in.” Tony wanted her to just hit him with the truth right here in the crowded lobby. They moved out of the way as Sam escorted a group of giggling Elvis fans and their cart of shopping bags down the hall. “Depending on the answer, you may be headed back to Chicago on the last flight tonight.”
Randa opened her mouth but seemed to struggle with the words she wanted. Finally she shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. I was going to eat there anyway. I’ll be there.”
Randa waited for him to answer. She looked a little hurt and he wanted to apologize or tell her he’d never be able to kick her out or explain that in this world, Willodean Jackson was the closest thing he had to a mother so whatever she asked for she got or… something. He just wasn’t sure what to say or why he felt so bad about the look on her face. When he’d confronted her about trying to use him, she’d been unable to tell the truth, but continuing the lie would have been easier. Even if she hadn’t confessed, she’d apologized. And just now she had
n’t tried a single sultry smile or flirtatious touch to get out of their conversation. He hated the distance between them, but she needed to come clean. So he just nodded. And she slung her hair over her shoulder and marched away.
He was headed the same direction, of course. And he could do it faster, probably beat her to the pool door with time to spare. But he had the feeling that ruining her grand exit might be worse than threatening to kick her out of the hotel. So he counted to a hundred before he followed her out.
Chapter Nine
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Randa stomped, or as close as she could get in her highest Laboutins, into Viva Las Vegas. She’d dressed for battle. If Tony thought they could toss her out, she was going to make sure he and Willodean Jackson regretted it mightily. The young blonde manning the hostess station smiled up at her. “Good evening, Miss Whitmore. Would you like a seat at the bar again?”
Randa smiled down at the tiny showgirl and said, “Actually, Lacey, I’m here to meet Willodean Jackson. Could you point me her direction?”
She smiled and said, “Sure thing. Follow me.”
Randa searched for Tony as she trailed Lacey through a few tables and nearly ran right over her when she stopped in front of a table shoved into a corner as far from the stage as possible. Randa sort of understood that. If tonight was a karaoke night, outside by the pool might be too close.
“Miss Willodean, this is Miss Whitmore. She’s been enjoying the burgers this week.” Lacey put a menu down on the table and Randa fought the urge to shoot a freezing death ray at the thinner, younger blonde.
The older lady with very black hair and bright green eyes motioned to a chair across from her. “Please, sit, Randa. We’ll both go stun Lacey with our best pissed-in-my-pool looks later, okay? She’s young. She’s got no idea about treadin’ on thin ice yet.” Willodean winked. “But you and I both know she will. Age catches up sooner or later.” Watching Willodean smile was like watching the sunrise after a month of clouds. She had a good-natured face and the sweet smile of a fairy godmother.
Can't Help Falling In Love Page 13
